


The Death and Rebirth of Hope

by Sarah1281



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Canon Compliant, Introspection, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Elfangor died, so did hope. It reappeared with the Andalite Bandits at the Yeerk Pool three days later. But what about the time in between, when all seemed lost? What was The Invasion like for someone who already knrew what was going on? Tom's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wonderful World of Hormones

My name is Tom Berenson and I did not think it was possible for my life to get any worse. I say 'did not' because I have since been proven wrong. My life could get worse and, for that matter, has. You never want to be proven wrong about this kind of thing.

Not that what I want matters a damn bit. It used to, but not anymore. Not since my infestation. Before, when I heard the word 'infestation', I thought of tapeworms or something – just a mild inconvenience. Now that's what I've been reduced to – a mild inconvenience. To a telepathic tapeworm. Oh, the irony. Coincidentally, I have since decided that I detest irony.

Now how, I suppose you'll want to know, does one go about getting infested with a telepathic tapeworm? Ah, the wonders of hormones. Her name was Taylor Patterson. She was the Homecoming Queen, the tennis champion, student-body president, and she was gorgeous. She was tall, thin, blonde, with blue-green eyes that lit up when she talked to you…What could I say? I was sixteen. She was just a year older than I was, and I, like most of the male population at my high school, had the biggest crush on her.

Then, one day, there was a rumor around school that there had been a fire, and that Taylor had been badly disfigured in it and had to be hospitalized. And this was straight from her best friend, Kylie Johansson – lead cheerleader, Prom Queen, and first in the class. No one could get in to see her after that. Apparently Kylie and the rest of the cheerleaders didn't react very well.

There was no word for about a month. Then, one day, she just showed up to school like nothing had happened. When Kylie and the others demanded details, she just laughed and told them she'd taken up yoga. Like that explained anything. No one pressed her, though, and she gracefully resumed her place as princess atop the social hierarchy.

One day, she stopped me in the hallway and asked, "Hey – Tom, right? You're on the basketball team, aren't you?"

I was so shocked that she even knew that I existed to do much more than nod slowly.

"I saw you at last night's game. You were amazing," she smiled that dazzling smile of hers.

"Thanks," I managed to say. She was watching me?

"Hey, have you ever heard of the Sharing?"

"I think so. That's that weird coed boy scout thing, right?"

She frowned slightly at me. "I wouldn't say it's weird. It's just different. It's like this whole new experience. You should come check it out."

Well, when you're personally invited somewhere by Taylor Patterson herself, it's not really an option. You just go. And so I did. It was a bit too touchy-feely for my tastes, but when Taylor saw me, she made a point to personally introduce me to all of the Sharing leaders. Everyone was so very interested in whether or not I'd be back. To be honest, it was a bit creepy. Flattering, granted, but creepy.

When I told Jake about it, he looked up at me and asked if I thought the wonderful world of hormones would make him join a cult, too.

My little brother Jake is four years younger than I am, so at twelve he hadn't quite hit puberty yet and was just teasing. Be that as it may, though, I'm glad he happened to take that stance. The Midget has got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever encountered. Once he takes a stance, he sticks with it, regardless of the consequences.

Like once, when Mom and Dad went to one of those parenting classes that's sometimes offered and came back firmly resolved to ban TV watching Monday through Thursday during the school year so we would have more time to study or some other inane reason, I was ticked. 24's on Monday and if I couldn't watch it until Friday, I'd be perpetually behind everyone else. And every Tuesday morning, people would talk about the most recent episode in the hallway before school. Not to mention that I had waited three seasons to see Kim Bauer get eaten by a cougar!

While I was sulking Jake, who watched considerably less TV than I did, decided to take matters into his own hands. Every day after school, he plopped down on the couch for a good three hours and stared intently at the blank screen. This continued for the better part of a month before our parents caved and recanted.

So, as I said, though Jake's reasons for staying away from the Sharing were a tad immature, once he'd denounced it, there was no way he'd admit to being wrong.

Given my brother's reaction and my own discomfort, I resolved not to return. When I next saw Taylor, however, she made a point to chat with me about my weekend and express her ardent desire to see me at next Friday's meeting. Taylor wanted to see me? And the meeting hadn't really been that bad, though the Full Member's insistence that their lives had basically sucked before the Sharing and after they joined it life somehow magically all became rainbows and sunshine seemed to lend credence to Jake's cult theory, I figured it was harmless. Cults are tax deductable, after all.

While I was contemplating attending another meeting, dozens of kids from all facets of the social scene said hi to me in the hall and included me in whatever they happened to be doing. The only connection I had to any of them was through the Sharing. I went again, and Taylor was assigned my guide.

The whole 'guide' thing seemed kind of lame, but it meant I'd get to spend more time with Taylor. Who I had a mad crush on. Who could have chosen to pair up with any potential member but had picked me. Though I still thought the whole thing was a bit stupid and, to venture slightly into the realm of misogyny, 'girly', I felt compelled to play along.

Time passed, and I became the main scorer on the basketball team. And it was then that Taylor asked me to Turnabout.

Needless to say, I was thrilled. I was also slightly uncertain; Taylor had every guy at school falling all over himself for her, and yet she chose me. Was Taylor going to cheat?

Now, I realize that trust is the basis for any healthy relationship, but Taylor was the most popular girl in school, and the conclusion of my 'trial period' was fast approaching. I either committed myself to it and its clichéd wholesomeness or I risked losing Taylor.

I had to be certain. Every meeting, the 'Full Members' went off by themselves, Taylor included. Brett Rogers, star quarterback, went with her. If she'd cheat with anybody there, it'd be him.

I told myself I was being silly, but I followed her anyway. I opened the door, trying to come up with an excuse for being back there. As it turns out, when you are graced by the good Visser's presence, it doesn't matter if you're there to find a cure for cancer or assassinate the president: the question of your membership is decided for you.

As it also turns out, Jake was right (shocking, I know, but it was bound to happen sooner or later); the Sharing really was a cult, albeit an alien-run one, complete with its own satanic rituals, which I was about to partake in.

Looking back on it all now, it seems kind of juvenile, but I was sixteen. I should have been able to be a hormone-ridden teen in peace. Which I would have been had the good Visser had half a brain. I mean, really. What kind of IDIOT goes and demorphs in a room filled with Controllers in a building full of non-Controllers who were being conditioned to become voluntary Controllers, but only if they didn't barge in on something like that without even bothering to lock the door? I mean, really. Even if he had only recently arrived and thus knew little of human customs – although he's since been here a year and has gone out his way to ensure he doesn't accidentally learn anything about Earth – surely one of the human Controllers must have thought 'Hm…Humans tend to barge right into places, we'd better lock the door.' But no. Apparently they couldn't be bothered. Lucky me.

Painful as it is to admit this, I think barging in there was perhaps not as bad as it seemed. I mean, granted, that was how I went about getting infested with a telepathic tapeworm, but there is every chance that I would have gotten infested anyway. Once Taylor put my fears about Brett to rest, I would have had no reason not to join.

So I may be a Controller, but at least I'm not voluntary. Taylor is, and I hate her for it. She wanted to be pretty again, and apparently the idea of getting plastic surgery without the accompanying Yeerk slug didn't occur to her.

Try as I may, I can never bring myself to hate Mr. Chapman, though. He's the assistant principal at Jake's school. They say the Yeerks wanted him so they could recruit more actively among the middle schoolers. His wife had already been taken…no, not taken exactly, she was a voluntary one. Regardless, the Yeerks had her and they approached him and threatened to take his twelve-year-old daughter Melissa if he didn't cooperate with them. Knowing that if he didn't, Melissa's life would be ruined and he'd probably still be infested, he had no choice but to agree. Even now, Melissa's future isn't secure. Yeerks make deals to gain hosts; once they have us there is no incentive to keep their empty promises.

Yeerk. The name makes it sound like something really gross and rightly so. A lot of people are too afraid to even say the word 'Yeerk', but not me. It's just a word; saying it or not won't change things. There is still going to be an egomaniacal escargot in my head, reading my every thought, controlling my every movement, dating Taylor, teasing Jake, quitting the basketball team…all the while mocking me as I lay helpless, trapped inside myself. It's not going anywhere regardless of whether or not I say 'Yeerk.'

Yeerks are aliens. And not of the ET or the 'Take me to your leader' variety either – not that they'd object to being taken to him, of course. They look like your common variety garden slug. Last time I checked, though, garden slugs don't have the power to crawl into your head through the ear canal and seize control of your brain. Not that I'd know for sure, though – I've never actually seen a reason to stick a garden slug in my ear. Jake and his best friend, Marco, however, are perpetually doing stupid things like that, and so could probably tell you.

When they are outside your brain, they're easily squashible. Not like they ever give you that chance. Not only are you a slave when they are inside of you, but when every three days comes and the Yeerks have to absorb Kandrona Rays from the Yeerk Pool and you are temporarily free, they feel the need to throw you in cages.

Not everyone is thrown into cages. The voluntary hosts all hang out in some remote corner of the Pool having a goddamned Pool Party and laughing their heads off at old Full House reruns, which I can't understand for two reasons. One, Full House isn't even funny. They have a laugh track, so I know what is supposed to be funny, but it's not. Maybe it's a generational thing. I was really little when it aired, after all. Two, how can human being sit there and hear the gut-wrenching screams of the Yeerk Pool week in and week out and learn to ignore it and enjoy themselves? I don't really think of them as humans. They're traitors.

Taylor says I'm melodramatic. I say she's schizophrenic. And a bitch. Daniel, who isn't certifiable and used to be on the basketball team with me, says that not all Yeerks are like the Visser. Some, he insists, just want peace.

Really? Conquering the galaxy sure is a strange way of going about that goal. Daniel says not all Yeerks torture you. Some are actually civil. Really? Some slave masters actually tolerate your existence? How thoughtful!

It's all well and good for Daniel to be like that. He has one of the so-called 'civil' ones. Me? I don't. I get the feeling that Temrash 252, the Yeerks, would like nothing better than if I broke. Sure, he'd lose a convenient way to relieve his boredom, but he'd also not have to deal with an annoying host.

I don't…I don't blame Daniel. I can't. He used to be like me. He had damn near given up. He got lucky, though. Right as he was reaching his breaking point, his Yeerk got promoted. And since being imported nearly always results in a change of hosts, his body was reassigned to a Yeerk that…I don't know, is nice to him? It's controlling his every movement and is privy to his every thought. How is that being nice? Granted, it doesn't torture him, but…It's like, just because your slave master treats you better than other slave masters treat their slaves doesn't change the fact that you're a slave and they have all the power.

Daniel…he doesn't get it. Doesn't see that depressingly inevitable, crushing truth. I wonder sometimes if he's lucky for it. Naivety is generally preferable to disillusionment and the icy sting that slowly but steadily gives way to a dull throbbing pain that rings in your ears along with the Yeerk's mocking laughter.

The Andalites. I've never met one, but they're our only hope. I mean, yeah, I've seen Visser Three's host, Alloran. Who hasn't? Seeing him was what led to my forcible induction into an alien-run cult. Not that I'm bitter.

Andalites have blue fur and four eyes: two main ones located where ours are and two eyes perched as stalks atop their heads. They have slits for noses, kind of like Voldemort in the Harry Potter movies (which may not be the best thing to compare one's only hope to, but the resemblance is uncanny) and no mouth. So, like Yeerks, they are telepathic. Although if I ever mentioned that to one, they'd probably decapitate me on the spot. Andalites have a human-esque upper body and they have four hooves, which kind of makes them resemble a horse or deer or something. They also, strangely enough, look like scorpions, although that's probably just the tail. It's incredibly fast and, with the scythe-like blade, incredibly deadly.

The Andalites are fighting the Yeerks. They are the only Class Four species, the only ones the Yeerks fear, the only ones they perceive to be a threat. The invasion isn't covert because the Yeerks are afraid of humanity and their squishing powers of doom. They're not. But open warfare would cause millions, maybe billions, of deaths. Not that the Yeerks'd care, but for that they cannot infest corpses. Not for lack of trying. No, to the Yeerks, we're no threat. It's a bit insulting, but true as far as I can see. When has a human caused any real damage to the Yeerks?

That's why, every day for a year now, I've been waiting, hoping, praying for the Andalites to come. Come and free us or kill us or whatever so long as the stupid slugs are gone from our heads.

The Andalites came. They saw. They were conquered. They put up a fair fight, but apparently didn't account for the good Visser's blade ship. When that emerged from the moon crater it was hiding in, I knew it was over. The Andalites were slaughtered.

Elfangor, the one the Visser's obsessed with, crash landed in the construction site behind the mall and so the Visser, some Taxxons, some Hork-Bajir, and a whole bunch of us human-Controllers headed over there, too. It's really risky, but the Visser doesn't care. He never does and Elfangor is far too great a prize not to do this. Still, though, it's the mall on a Friday; people cut through here all the time. I know Jake does whenever he feels his 'manly pride' has been threatened.

I hope to God he stays the hell away from here tonight.


	2. Hope Just Crashed and Burned

All the Taxxons and Hork-Bajir were standing at attention, of course. Tonight, the Visser would probably be too busy to care, but normally the Visser just needed a reason to kill random underlings. Some say he's an Andalite-loving fool (never to him, of course; fool or not, he's more than deadly), but I just think he gets high off of death. It's like he's addicted to war or something. Rather disturbing, and somewhat annoying as Temrash never seems to do anything or stand anywhere particularly decapitation-worthy.

The Hork-Bajir and Taxxons formed a ring around Elfangor's ship, ostensibly to keep him from escaping, but he was obviously too badly wounded to try anything. They just wanted a better view and, I suppose, to feel a part of what was about to happen.

Funny. That sounded a lot like what drew troubled kids to the Sharing: their need to feel a 'part' or something. And they claimed we humans had belonging issues.

((You do,)) said Temrash. ((Even if you are right, my brother Yeerks want to be a part of the downfall of Beast Elfangor; your pitiful species can't figure out how to talk to one of the six billion others on this planet.))

((Oh no, it's much better to be a trumped-up glory-seeker,)) I said sarcastically.

((Better that than a host with an inferiority complex,)) Temrash returned.

((If you people have a problem with inferiority complexes, maybe you should stop creating them,)) I suggested helpfully.

I don't think Temrash had a reply to that, but he probably wouldn't have responded if he did because the good Visser chose that moment to exit his Blade Ship. All attention was, as per usual, focused entirely on him; those who didn't do so often met untimely ends.

Visser Three strolled leisurely but confidently towards Elfangor. Of course he was confidant; he was always confident. But then, why shouldn't he be? He was the leader of the thus-far successful secret invasion of Earth, he was the sixteenth most powerful Yeerk in the Empire, he had just neatly dealt with the Andalite Task Force sent to Earth, and he was moments away from vanquishing what I can only describe as his arch-nemesis. I know, I know: it sounds like something out of a comic book, but that's how it was with those two. My God, they really hated each other. Not just because they were on opposing sides, but personally hated each other. Or, at least, the Visser did. Given how much time and effort he has put into attempting to kill Elfangor, I'm pretty sure the feelings must be mutual.

They'd both tried so hard to take each other down for the past twenty years or so, from what I've heard. Mr. Chapman knows quite a bit about it, though no one is entirely sure how, least of all him. Now, after all these years, Visser Three was finally going to destroy Elfangor. Oh yes, he was enjoying this.

For his part, the Andalite seemed remarkably calm. I don't know why; it's not like there was anyone he was trying to inspire or something. We hosts would never spread around if he begged for his life or anything like that and the Yeerks would say what they would regardless. Maybe Elfangor just didn't want to give the good Visser that satisfaction. I don't know. I just don't understand aliens. They're so…alien.

((No, really?))

((Don't you have any glory-seeking of your own to do?)) I inquired politely.

((Well, well,)) Visser Three boomed. It startled me a little. I mean, the Visser was always loud (in fact, it's a popular theory that he doesn't know how to private thought-speak), but now he was deliberately broadcasting for all to hear. Showing off. I guess even big shots aren't immune from glory-seeking. Maybe especially not big shots. They had to have gotten promoted somehow, right?

((What have we here? A meddling Andalite?)) Visser Three asked, peering closely at Elfangor. Right, like he didn't know exactly who this was. ((Ah, but no ordinary Andalite Warrior. Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul, if I am not mistaken. An honor to meet you.)) Yeah, like anyone bought that. ((You're a legend. How many of our fighters have you shredded? Seven, or was it eight by the time the battle ended?)) Oh please, like he didn't know it was fifteen.

Elfangor, who assuredly already knew he was a legend, didn't deign to answer, probably because he knew the Visser was being thick on purpose. Although sometimes, it is difficult to tell. On that subject, a certain unlocked door comes to mind…

((The very last Andalite in this sector of space. Yes, I'm afraid your Dome Ship has been completely destroyed. Completely. I watched as it fell into the atmosphere of this little world.))

The last Andalite. How dramatic. Except, of course, for Alloran. And any other possible survivors, those who hadn't been in the Dome – such as most of the Warriors, who had been in fighters, like Elfangor. Either way, I knew what he meant. Hope just crashed and burned.

((There will be others,)) Elfangor said. Yes, but what will prevent the outcome from being the same?

Visser Three stepped close to Elfangor. ((Yes, and when they come it will be too late. This world will be mine. My own contribution to the Yeerk Empire. Our greatest conquest. And then I'll be Visser One.))

Yes, delivering the only Class Five species to the Empire would probably earn him a promotion. Or two.

((What do you want with these Humans?)) Elfangor asked. You mean, other than to infest and control everyone lucky enough to be deemed 'worthy'? ((You have your Taxxon allies. You have your Hork-Bajir slaves. And other slaves from other worlds. Why these people?)) Again, other than the fact we're the only known Class Five species?

See, the Yeerks tend to classify all non-Yeerks into five groups. Class One were those who were deemed unfit for infestation, such as the Skirt Na because they phased. Class Two could be infested, but infested, but had a drawback. The Taxxon for their insane hunger and the Gedds for their different sized legs and dull senses for instance. Class Three were great hosts, but don't reproduce often and there aren't very many of them, which may or may not be due to a Quantum Virus. Class Four are great and plentiful hosts the Yeerks can't conquer. That, of course, is the codeword for 'Andalites.' Yeerks, with the obvious exception of the Andalite-obsessed Visser, don't like speaking about Andalites if they can help it and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. Last is Class Five: us. We're the only species they've encountered that make great and plentiful hosts and can't stop them. Oh joy.

Even if the Yeerks hadn't had such solid reasons for picking us, Elfangor seemed a bit, well, too concerned. Like for some reason he wanted humanity in particular to be spared.

((That's ridiculous,)) Temrash laughed at me. ((Why would Beast Elfangor care a bit for your pitiful species?))

He could never just say humans. It was always 'your pitiful species.' Despite the fact he claimed he hated inferiority complexes, he was sure trying to give me one. Not that it had worked as of yet. I figured that if we as worthless as he would have me believe, we wouldn't be such popular hosts. Not a great thing to base your self-esteem on, but it's something, I guess.

((I don't know,)) I snapped. ((Hence, 'for some reason.'))

((Because they are so many, and they are so weak,)) Visser Three sneered.

((Maybe he just has a saving people thing. You know, like the Visser has a destroying people thing. They're like…foils.))

((Brilliant theory, human, but that doesn't explain why he would chose your pitiful species,)) he said, putting extra emphasis on the last three words just to annoy me.

((Well, Andalites don't have a mouths and we are experts in the food department,)) I said dryly.

((I think an Andalite could manage to resist the temptations of the Cinnabon.))

((Hey, you never know. At any rate, it's got to taste better than grass,)) I countered.

((Billions of bodies! And they have no idea what's happening.)) Although how the general populace's ignorance makes for better hosts eludes me. And really doesn't answer the question. They could catch most species unaware. ((With this many hosts, we can spread throughout the universe, unstoppable!)) Really now, how hard could it be to stop a bunch of garden slugs in such decidedly weak bodies? (( Billions of us. We'll have to build a thousand new Yeerk Pools just to raise Yeerks for half this number of bodies. Face it, Andalite, you have fought well and bravely. But you have lost.))

Oh, now he's pretending to have forgotten Elfangor's name? Again? Yeah, that's not fooling anyone, Visser. And considering you people have been here for eight years and only managed to build one Yeerk Pool, that's plenty of time for the Andalites to send dozens of Task Forces. I don't know whether they'll have any more success than this one, but the battle is far from over.

Visser Three moved closer still to Elfangor. If he was afraid, he masked it well, and climbed defiantly to his feet. This gallantry just seemed to annoy the valor-less Visser, who tried again to provoke him.

((I promise you one thing, Prince Elfangor – when we have this planet, with its rich harvest of bodies, we will move against the Andalite home world.)) Oh, and now he remembers him again. He should really get that random memory loss checked out. I kind of doubt that's the kind of thing Elfangor'd like to be promised, though. And it's not like everyone doesn't already know that the Yeerks'll attack the Andalites directly as soon as they possibly can. ((I will personally hunt down your family. And I will personally oversee the placement of my most faithful lieutenants in their heads. I hope that they will resist, so I can hear their minds scream.)) Again, not the kind of thing he's going to want to be promised. And if the Yeerks don't pick up the pace, then it'll be descendents of Elfangor's family that'll be infested. The good Visser may or may not still be around, who knows how long Yeerks live? Frankly, I think Visser Three intends to live forever. Now that is a scary thought. And even if Visser Three does manage to catch Elfangor's family, of course they'll resist! If they were traitors, I highly doubt Elfangor would have turned out how he did. And their current sentiments, whatever they may be, will be overridden by what's about to happen to Elfangor, I'm sure. Besides, unless the good Visser plans to personally infest them, he isn't' going to be able to hear their minds screaming as they resist the Yeerks.

The threat, though not very well thought out, seemed to work. A little too well, as it happens, for Elfangor suddenly struck the Visser. The blade was too fast to see, so fast, in fact, that it cracked like a whip as it moved through the air. Though it aimed to do so, the blow failed to decapitate him. Of course, Visser Three has probably had quite a bit of tail-fighting experience, not to mention anything Alloran learned working his way up to being a War-Prince, so that probably explains why he missed. Elfangor didn't look like he expected his weakened attempt on the Visser's life to succeed and seemed quite pleased with the damage he did do.

The blade may have missed the Visser's head by less than an inch, but it sure did a number on his shoulder and, I could see with a sort of grim satisfaction, green blood gushed from the wound. Elfangor had struck deep.

Just the same, I thought the Visser's howl of pain was a bit over the top. I mean, honestly. Had he never been injured before? Like, ever? Not to mention the example it set for the troops. Baby.

Several Taxxons near me seemed to be desperately trying to restrain themselves from attempting to eat the Visser. It'd never work, of course. The Visser really wasn't that badly wounded and could really stop screaming any time now; he was beginning to give me a headache. Not that I felt most of it, just a dull throb, but it annoyed me all the same. The Visser would have to be, like, half-dead or something not to be able to defend himself against Taxxons. They're quite ravenous, but physically unimpressive. They look like overgrown centipedes, really. Twice as long as the average adult, maybe, and…well, pretty wide. I can't place a comparison to humans because there is an obesity epidemic in this country, after all. But anyway, the bottom two-thirds of their bodies had dozens of legs, all the same size, unlike the Gedds, the top third was erect, and the legs became hands, small and lobster-like. Their heads had four eyes, which reminded me irresistibly of red Jell-O. Coincidentally, I have recently become quite fond of red Jell-O. The Taxxons could easily be wounded, even by a human like me – provided I had a pointy, object , but still – and that would effectively put them out of commissions, for therein lay the true threat of the Taxxon. It will eat anything once it's wounded, even each other, even itself, and boy do they have the means to do it. At the bottom of their heads was a round mouth ringed by hundreds of tiny teeth and pointing straight up in the air, kind of like a garbage disposal. Incidentally, I've since developed a garbage disposal phobia. Sounds silly, I know, which is why I suppose it's called a phobia, an irrational fear, but, much as I'd like to just die and get it over with, Taxxon is NOT the way to go. That would hurt far too much.

Even if the Visser were unable to defend himself, the Hork-Bajir would defend him. Not because they particularly want to keep him around (they have no job security. Or even life security, for that matter), but because allowing your boss to get eaten doesn't look good on your record. Eating your boss looks worse. Not that the Visser had to worry about the Hork-Bajir eating him. The Hork-Bajir look incredibly dangerous. They stand on two legs and have two arms, like a human, except that their wrists and elbows have blades on them, as do their knees and tail. Their heads look like of like a snake, their foreheads have two or three horns, depending on gender (males have three, females have two) and their mouths look like falcon's beaks. Despite this, I hear they eat bark and use the blades for that, perhaps. I wish I had blades. How easy it would be to kill yourself then. I don't know why the Hork-Bajir don't do it; it's not like the Yeerks have to do suicide watches, they just lock them up with us humans. Supposedly the average Hork-Bajir is about as smart as the average four-year-old thought, so perhaps it's never occurred to them. They say one Hork-Bajir in a generation is as smart as the Yeerks themselves, and I wonder if they kill themselves. I mean, on the one hand, being a Controller sucks, on the other, the smart one, the Seer, is traditionally found helping the people in a time of need. Now, for instance, is a time of incredible need. I know the Seer around when the Yeerks invaded, Dak Hamee, I believe was his name, gave the Yeerks hell when they came.

He and some Andalite girl named Aldrea. Apparently she was the good Visser's first target for Andalite infestation, but this was back when morphing was at its infancy, and so she, who, for some reason, was morph-capable, always managed to avoid getting infested. They say she and Dak got together, she stayed in Hork-Bajir morph for the two-hour limit, and became intentionally trapped, partly out of love for Dak, partly to make herself less of a target. A nothlit. Then they had a son, which they named after her father, Seerow. I'm not sure if all that's true or not, but Seerow's son, Jara, is someone I know a little. His Yeerk feeds at around the same time as mine, so I see him sometimes. He isn't very bright, but he is sweet. He doesn't know anything but slavery and instead of wishing for freedom, like I and the other humans do, he merely wants to see his kalashi – his wife, Ket Halpak. It's incredibly depressing.

Especially considering his great-grandfather Seerow was the one to go to the Yeerk home world and give them technology. I still don't get why. I mean, even if he was trying to be nice, and even if Gedd's are barely sentient, the fact still remains that they're sentient and the Yeerks enslaved them and why wasn't at all concerned? Well, that's not entirely true. Apparently Alloran was concerned and look where that got him. Seerow caused all this and Alloran tried to warn him about it and Alloran got infested while Seerow merely got blown up. Maybe be the Yeerks were grateful. And yeah, you hear quite a bit at the Yeerk Pool. No one forget how to talk and it's impossible to make small talk, so we usually talk about the war and the Visser's latest antics.

Ah, the Visser was done screaming now. And Elfangor must have sent an order to his ship, because a blinding blue light shot from the tail of it and sliced into the nearest Bug Fighter. Good for him. The Hork-Bajir and Taxxons quickly got out of the way, the Taxxons all too grateful to have something new to focus on. The Bug Fighter sizzled and glowed for a moment, then disappeared.

((Fire!)) Visser Three yelled. ((Burn his ship!)) Naturally, he couldn't be bothered to do it himself. And Elfangor really should have had his ship fire on the good Visser.

Those in the Blade Ship and the other Bug Fighters instantly complied, probably afraid Elfangor'd set his sights on them next, and the red light they shot hit the Andalite ship, which slowly disintegrated. Of course, Andalite shredders are quick, efficient, and reasonably painless. Yeerk Dracon Beams, which everyone knows are total rip-offs, cause the individual cells to burst, making for a slower, more painful death with the same amount of efforts. See why the Yeerks like them?

Through the sudden light them beams provided, I thought I saw something move behind a low, crumbling wall out of the corner eye.

((What's that?)) I asked, curious despite myself and half-hoping Temrash would look so I could tell what it was.

((Who cares?)) Temrash snapped, so not in the mood to indulge me. ((Whatever it is cannot possibly be worth missing this historic moment.))

((Yeah, well, no one likes history,)) I retorted, annoyed. What was that?

((Take the Andalite. Hold him for me,)) Visser Three commanded. Three of the Visser's guards leapt forward and held Elfangor down, holding wrist blades to his throat. I don't know why, though. It's not like they were stupid enough to kill him. Visser Three is rumored to be able to make Kandrona Starvation, which usually lasts three days, last weeks by giving said Yeerk just enough to sustain them. You'd think the Yeerk wouldn't take the offered rays, but they say Kandrona starvation is terrible. It literally causes their mind to deteriorate, so not only would they not be thinking clearly but they wanted to put it off as long as possible besides. They also say that Kandrona Starvation is terrible for the host. Yeah, I'm sure. Infestation is terrible. The death of the Yeerk is just exhausting, really. Yeah, the Yeerk'd torture you to make itself feel better and during the final four or five hours, the Fugue, you'd go through some of the Yeerk's memories, but that can happen anytime. I think that Kandrona starvation, though not fun, would be inspirational, and something that every involuntary Controller should get to experience at least once in their lifetime. Let the Yeerk be powerless for once.

((I am not going to get sentenced to starve,)) Temrash informed me matter-of-factly.

((I'd be good with decapitation, too. Or eaten. I'd almost rather be eaten. Why can't you just die?)) I asked, equally matter-of-factly.

He ignored me so I went back to my musings. The Visser was drawing this out more than I thought he would. Good God, he was seriously acting like a scorned lover or something. Everyone knows that Elfangor was there when Visser Three took Alloran and then they went on an adventure together and have been trying to kill each other with unusual ferocity ever since then. Maybe there is something to that 'Andalite-loving fool' thing after all…I wonder what the alien perspective on homosexuality is.

((It cannot produce more hosts, so we have no use for it,)) Temrash answered promptly.

((Oh, now you can hear me? And I mean Andalite perspective, seeing as how Elfangor and Alloran are both Andalites.))

((Why do you insist on referring to him as Alloran? He's been the Visser's host for a good four years before you were even born.))

((Because I hate it when people don't differentiate between you and me. Some people don't know of course, and I can't fault them that, they're lucky-))

((Though, of course, doomed,)) Temrash interrupted.

((Granted. But until then, they don't see any of this. Those who do know who think of me as 'Temrash's hosts' or, worse, you as 'Tom', that's just awful.))

((How does you calling him Alloran help at all, though? He'll never know.))

((Karma.))

((Human superstition,)) Temrash scoffed. ((And you know that.))

((I don't exactly believe in it in the true sense of the word,)) I admitted. ((I don't think that there's positive and negative energy out there and if you 'put out there' that someone's going to get cancer, that doesn't mean that they will or hold you accountable if they do, though most people will feel guilty anyway.))

((Then what do you mean?)) Temrash could easily just read my thoughts, but I suppose that got boring after awhile. ((Yes, it does, but it's still quite useful and not anything I can help.))

((Oh, then that makes it all better,)) I said sarcastically. ((And I really mean karma in the metaphorical sense. If you're nice to people, chances are they'll be nice back. If you're an ass, you can expect the same in return.))

((But you're a host; save once every three days, you don't have an opportunity to do anything,)) Temrash pointed out.

((And whose fault is that?)) I demanded. And it's really more like two days, two and a half max. Yeerks don't just die suddenly after 72 hours; they starve over a period of about half a day and no one waits that long if they can help it. ((And besides, I can't really expect other people to acknowledge my existence and that you and I aren't the same if I'm not willing to do the same for then.))

((But you'll never KNOW,)) he pressed.

((I can hope.))

While we were engaging in a semi-philosophical discussion, our dear Visser began to morph. His host's head grew much larger, his four legs became two incredibly think ones and his arms turned into tentacles. A huge mouth formed on the bloated head, with teeth as long as my arm (the better to eat you with, my dear) and a sadistic grin.

"R-r-r-r-a-a-a-w-w-w-w-g-g-g! R-r-r-r-r-r-a-a-a-a-g-g-g!" the good Visser roared, reaching out a thick tentacle and grabbing Elfangor by the neck. He lifted him up in the air, tearing off the arm of one of his guards in the process. I heard a few of the Taxxons come up behind him, but Temrash's attention was focused on Visser Three and Elfangor. The latter kept striking the Visser with his tail, but he must have known it wasn't doing much damage. The Visser held Elfangor high in the air and opened his mouth wide.

((Wait, wait…he's just going to eat him?)) I demanded.

((What would you rather he do?)) Temrash asked, surprised.

((Well, nothing, but I don't see how he can go around complaining that there's only one Andalite you guys have ever infested if he's going to go and pull stunts like this,)) I pointed out.

((Well, this is a special occasion. Beast Elfangor has done more damage to us than any other single Andalite. It's worth it,)) Temrash assured me.

((Though probably not nearly the amount of damage Visser Three does annually,)) I muttered. ((And it's not like this is an isolated occurrence! He kills every Andalite he comes across.))

((We are at war,)) Temrash reminded me.

((Because you guys want to infest them,)) I countered. ((You'd think he was TRYING to ensure that he stayed the only Andalite-Controller.))

Slowly, deliberately, the Visser dangled Elfangor closer to his mouth. He opened his gaping jaws as large as possible and lowered the still-striking Elfangor into them. It was hard to watch, though, of course, I had no choice. Temrash had my eyes opened wide in eager anticipation and was trying not to blink.

Though Temrash was right and I really couldn't tell, I got the feeling my fellow hosts were just as demoralized as I was. Then, as though sensing this, I heard one last word from the Andalite, Elfangor, before the Visser ripped apart.

((Hope…))

Hope? After all this, knowing that the Task Force had been decimated and another wouldn't be deployed for months, if not years, he still thought there was hope? Either he was optimistic to the point of foolishness (which isn't common in the military elite) or else he knew something we didn't. Not surprising, but how could it possibly be enough to even keep the pretense of hope alive?

Feeling nauseated by the sight of the Taxxons vying for pieces of Elfangor and the sound of the Yeerks laughing, I tried to focus inward. Tried to ignore the fact that, as far as anyone passing by was concerned, I was laughing, too. I could feel Temrash laughing and it was sickening.

Of course, it was unlikely that anyone would be passing by here. Still, though, I couldn't help but think back to that slight movement I'd seen earlier, behind the wall. Had someone been there or was it just an animal? If it was someone, that begged the question: Human or Andalite? If it was an Andalite, or several Andalites, then it would explain Elfangor's certainty that all was not lost. After all, Andalites, even a handful of Andalites, were better than no Andalites. But, if they were Andalites, where was their ship? I mean, I'm no expert, but Elfangor's ship was three or four times the size of our minivan and the Bug Fighters were only slightly larger than that. Bug Fighters have a crew of one Taxxon and one Hork-Bajir and Andalites are generally extremely claustrophobic, so chances are they wouldn't put two Andalites in a fighter, let alone three or more. If it wasn't an Andalite at all, but a human, well…What good would that do? Elfangor really couldn't do much more than warn them, but that wouldn't hurt the Yeerks any and would probably just end up endangering them. If they came forward, they'd get killed or, worse, infested, and if, by some miracle, they managed to tell the world, the Yeerks'd merely come out in the open and conquer Earth faster.

It made sense that it would be Andalites, that much was clear. But in that case, wouldn't he have said 'there are others' not 'there will be others'? Unless, of course, he didn't want to put the Yeerks on their guard so the Andalites would have a harder time escaping here and lose any chance at having the element of surprise. But why would the Andalites stay and watch? If there wasn't anything they thought they could do for Elfangor, why put themselves at risk? That's sentimental and stupid and nothing a warrior would be caught dead doing. They could easily acquire a morph and leave. But why didn't they do anything for Elfangor? He was pretty badly hurt, but he probably could've been coaxed through it if it weren't for the Visser showing up and eating him. Maybe if they knew the Visser was chasing Elfangor down…

((Has anyone ever told you that you think entirely too much?)) Temrash inquired innocently.

((Yeah, well, what else do I have to do? You're pretty determined that I'll never get to do anything ever again.))

((Except once every two, two and a half days during the allotted time frame,)) Temrash corrected me.

((How generous.))

((And it's probably nothing.))

Visser Three began demorphing. ((An, nothing like a good Antarean Bogg morph for…taking a bite out of your enemies,)) he hammed it up, the Yeerks obliging him as though he were Jon Stewart or something.

Suddenly, a Hork-Bajir sounded the alarm and I heard a distinctly human voice shout, "Split up! They can't follow all of us."

((I stand corrected,)) Temrash commented absently, heading off in the direction the voice had come from.

So I'd been right. But it was humans after all. Male. Young, too, from the sound of it. And…strangely enough, familiar. I didn't wonder that I couldn't place it, though. At present, my life is divided into two parts: the time I spend in the company of other Controllers and the time I don't. Right now was the former, and so I really wasn't expecting anyone free to be on the scene of Elfangor's murder.

((Not a murder. Remember: we are at war.))

((Which is why you guys murdered him. And seeing as how he was bleeding heavily already and you guys held him down and ate him, I'd have to say that it looks like murder. And a war crime, for that matter.))

((Please,)) Temrash snorted. ((Visser Three's never going to be held accountable to your pitiful country's laws.))

Hm. A variation. Not 'your pitiful species.'

((Laws differ from country to country. In Singapore, having marijuana is a capital offense.))

((I hate it when you do that! You wouldn't know that unless I knew that; don't act like you're enlightening me!))

Temrash pretended not to hear me.

I suppose I was also actively trying not to recognize the voice, because whoever it was, if I recognized it, they'd be dead so fast I don't even want to think about it. And though I wasn't sure who it was, I knew that it had to be someone I cared about and no one but Taylor – who really doesn't care about anyone but herself – would wish infestation on someone.

Whoever the voice was, though, he was wrong. Did he not see how many Hork-Bajir were out here? He's just lucky no one thought to bring along a Taxxon Tracker.

The original Hork-Bajir looked unsure which way to go.

"Come on, come on, you-" a young girl's voice shouted, followed by a long stream of obscenities.

Wow. That voice was also familiar. Whoever she was, she certainly had MY respect, being able to cuss out a Hork-Bajir like that.

Temrash headed over in the direction the second voice had come from and I faintly saw someone, presumably the girl, waving her arms around as she ran. Bold. And reckless. My new hero.

Two more Hork-Bajir took off after her and another shadowy figure. Now, I doubt they understood even half of the words she used, but they got the basic gist of it, I think.

Those two humans couldn't be the only ones, or else that girl seriously does not grasp the concept of 'splitting up.' But then, the guy had said that they could catch all of them, so if it were only two, he didn't get it either. All is not two. All is at least four or five. If there were more, they must be having an easy time getting away with these two drawing all the attention to themselves. I wondered if they knew that the Yeerks could find their friends if they infested them.

"Ghafrash! Here! Ghafrash fit! Enemy! Get Ghafrash fit nahar! I get! I kill!" someone shouted.

Okay, I get that Hork-Bajir only have a limited vocabulary, but you'd think the Yeerk at least could use some proper grammar. You know, to prove their superiority to their intelligence-challenged hosts.

Suddenly, one of the figures was down. The second didn't notice or didn't care. Or both, I suppose.

Temrash took aim and fired, but just missed, striking a concrete pipe to the left of the fallen human. I saw a flash of short brown hair before he was up and running, the two Hork-Bajir like hell-hounds on his tail.

The girl must have seen the light from the Dracon Beam for she stopped and started back towards the boy. Bad move on her part. The boy must have agreed, because he yelled at her, "Don't be an idiot! Run!"

She stood uncertain for a moment, then took off again. Meanwhile, the boy had disappeared into one of the half-finished buildings. The Hork-Bajir charged in after them. Temrash elected not to follow, presumably because Hork-Bajir can't see very well at night and so going in there after them would have gotten him – or rather, me – decapitated for sure. Coward.

((Don't call me a coward just because you have a death wish,)) Temrash said, annoyed.

((The Visser would also call you a coward and he's not suicidal. And would finally kill you if he knew,)) I pointed out.

((Then I'll just not tell him. Andalite eyes aren't that much better than human eyes in the dark.))

Innis 226, the Yeerk controlling Mr. Chapman, charged right in there after the Hork-Bajir with absolutely no concern for his own safety. He glared at Temrash as he did so, but Temrash merely shrugged.

"Elfad to tell fallay nyot fit? Whatever order," a Hork-Bajir told him as he entered.

Innis seemed to understand the mixture of languages, which is strange because no human I know can speak Hork-Bajir. "No. No need to capture them. Whoever you find, kill. Just save the head. Bring that to me and we can identify it," Innis said coldly. The funny thing is, it's not hard to imagine an assistant principal, the one in charge of disciplinary matters, saying something like that, Yeerk or no Yeerk.

((Say it. I know you're just dying to,)) Temrash told me.

((Say what?)) I asked.

((Why what he said is ridiculous and how stupid that makes him.))

((Mad he might tell the Visser you're not giving it your all to find this guy?))

((This guy that you know? Yes. Yes I am.))

((Fine. If one of the principle reasons Visser Three gave for choosing to infest us was because most people don't have a clue, it would seem that a reasonable thing to do would be not doing anything suspicious. Violently killing kids, especially by means of decapitation, seems to be contrary to that goal.))

((They'll dispose of the bodies,)) Temrash countered.

((Then they'll have a bunch of kids going missing and people searching for them and their killers. Rather conspicuous for a secret invasion. And if they kill the one guy they catch, they'll ever find the others who may or may not know anything.))

Within five minutes, the Hork-Bajir and Innis returned, triumphantly carrying a head in his hands, ignoring the blood that stained his suit. I hoped Melissa didn't see it when he went home, or else he'd be hard-pressed for an explanation and might decide it'd be easier to just take her.

If Temrash weren't there, my heart would be hammering. Then again, if Temrash weren't there I wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place, where I'm about to view a decapitated head and find out who I knew was unfortunate enough to stumble upon the Yeerk invasion.

Innis brought the head close and asked, "What do you think?"

Temrash cocked my head, considering. The man looked to be in his early sixties with long, shaggy grizzled hair with matching stubble. He had a chunk missing from his nose and hard lines on his forehead.

With a start I realized I knew who this was. Old Bob Lawrence. He'd fought in the Vietnam and been awarded a medal for valor, but hadn't been able to handle it back home, eventually leaving his wife, Nadine, to support their three children, Alton, Celeste, and Lauren. No, that wasn't right. It was Loren. His name wasn't really Bob, it was Francis, but that name seemed incredibly inappropriate for the lifestyle he'd chosen so everyone referred to him by a variation of his middle name, Robert.

My high school requires 30 hours of community service in order to graduate. My parents didn't want me to be like most kids and put it off until second semester of senior year so they made me do it as a freshman, the year before my infestation.

I volunteered (or was volunteered, to be more precise) at the local soup kitchen where Bob was a regular. He always seemed rather lonely and would arrive right when we opened and sit and watch everyone else even after he finished eating. He never said a word to anyone.

One day, though, he looked even more forlorn that usual and I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. I brought him some extra food I'd set aside as we were closing and while he ate, he kept looking at me as if he was trying to decide something.

Finally, he told me about his family. How he had loved them,. Still did, but felt like everything around him was moving too fast and he couldn't keep up and he never had anything to say anymore. He felt his inability to relate to his wife and kids was doing them more harm than good, so one day he just up and left. He knew things were hard for Nadine, but he couldn't figure out what else to do. She had died since then, but he had continued to keep watch over his children. Always watching, but never making contact.

He told me how Alton, unable to handle the intense pressure to support his mother and sisters, had gradually slipped into alcoholism and worked as a roofer, making just enough to support his drinking habit. How Celeste had moved to New York, married a well-to-do stockbroker, and turned her back on the family. How Loren, the youngest, had been happy for awhile with a husband, but when their child, Tobias, was four or so, had gotten into a severe car accident, leaving her blind and amnesiac. They brought him to her after the accident, but she was too badly damaged to adequately care for him and her husband had vanished during her pregnancy. He told me how Tobias was shuffled from coast to coast biannually. How he went from aunt to uncle, from semi-slavery to alcoholic apathy.

I asked him why he was telling me this, after keeping his silence for so long, and, tearing up, he told me that that was Tobias's eleventh birthday and he showed me a box of drawing pencils he'd managed to scrape together enough money to buy. He said he was trying to work up the courage to send it to him. I never found out if he did or not, for after that my volunteer hours came to a close and he began frequenting another soup kitchen.

And now he was dead.

"His name was Bob Lawrence. He was a vagrant. Nobody is likely to notice his disappearance, but he is not the one you were chasing," Temrash said flatly.

"Maybe if you had actually seen fit to participate in the search, Temrash…" Innis began.

"Please, spare me," Temrash interrupted. "This body can't outrun a Hork-Bajir. That human shouldn't have been able to, either."

"Well, he wouldn't have," Innis admitted. "But Hork-Bajir can't see very well in the dark, and so they thought this human," he indicated the head, "was the one they were looking for."

"That's why I didn't go in," Temrash informed his colleague.

((What is the meaning of this commotion?)) Visser Three finally stopped reveling in the glory of his triumph against Elfangor to notice several Controllers were scurrying about.

Innis licked his dry lips nervously before saying, "You see, Visser, one of the Hork-Bajir guards detected humans here."

((Did they see anything?))

"We're not sure, Visser, but we went after them to be safe."

((Did you catch them?))

"N-no, Visser," Innis stammered. "We-"

((YOU IMBECILE! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY FAIL TO APPREHEND A HANDFUL OF HUMANS?)) Visser Three thundered.

Innis flinched. "Well, you see, Visser, the guards decapitated a human they encountered-"

((If it was killed, how will we find the others?)) Visser Three asked, the voice of reason for once.

Man, I'm good.

"It…wasn't the right human anyway," Innis admitted.

((Find them! Do not let our victory over the Task Force the Andalites sent and especially over Elfangor to be marred by the exposure of our invasion!) The good Visser ordered.

((Why does he even care? I thought he wanted an end to the so-called 'soft invasion'?)) I remarked to Temrash.

((He does,)) he explained. ((But if our cover's blown like this, blame will fall on him for his somewhat careless public execution.))

I called that, too.

"Y-yes, Visser," Innis nodded hurriedly.

((I expect news of your success shortly,) Visser Three told his frightened subordinate with a definite undertone of a threat in his thought speech voice. With that, he turned and headed back to his ship, the Hork-Bajir and Taxxon quickly following suit.

As they lifted off and disappeared into the night sky, Innis breathed a sigh of relief. "You owe me for that, Temrash."

"Do I?" Temrash sounded amused. "You know the Visser was just looking for a reason to kill you tonight for your incompetence in dealing with a bunch of human children."

Innis reddened. "Be that as it may, if I had mentioned your cowardice, he would have-"

"Found his reason," Temrash finished. "Now, is there anything else? My host's parents will be expecting me soon, and we don't want to jeopardize the security of our invasion."

"No, you can go. But remember: we need to find those kids. With any luck, they didn't hear anything damning and will just think it's your typical B-Sci-Fi movie invasion. Even if they do know, it's unlikely they'll expect someone they know to be Controllers, so we should all just keep an eye out for strange behavior and question all the kids you can about it, particularly if you know that they were out tonight around area. Perhaps at the mall or have come through here before."

"Got it," Temrash nodded and head out of the construction site to where he'd parked my car. Though, of course, Temrash had driven if far more than I ever had.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, then began. ((You don't suppose Jake-))

((Don't even think about it,)) I interrupted.

((Why not?))

((It could be anyone! What are the odds that it's my little brother?))

((Well, obviously quite high if it turns out to be him…))

((But it's not!)) I protested.

((Even so, I'll have to question all the teenagers I can and, like it or not, your brother fits that description, so I'll have to question him, too.))

((Fine, but you'd better not just infest him for the hell of it,)) I warned.

((Or what?)) he asked, laughing.

((I'll think of something.))


	3. The Sharing of What

When I got home, I found out that Jake had already gone to bed. Weird. Maybe he was ill? Temrash kept talking about what it could 'mean', but quite frankly, I didn't want to hear it.

My parents asked if I wanted to watch the movie of the week with them. Temrash didn't really want to, but asked what movie it was anyway, so as to be polite. Against all odds, it was "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." Needless to say, Temrash spent the entire movie criticizing the rather shoddy invasion. I asked him why he watched it then, and he told me the name made it a matter of principle. Yeerks.

That night, I dreamed I was back in the construction site, but this time Temrash had listened to me. Depressing, isn't it, that even in my dreams I'm a Controller. We were ten feet away from the wall the humans were behind. Seven feet. Five. Three. We peered over the top and…Homer? I could hear barking and I realized I was awake.

((Your dog? Your dog?)) Temrash complained as he got up and began to get dressed. ((I can't analyze your dreams if you incorporate external stimulus!))

((Well, sorry. I can't help it if Homer started barking then and no one said you had to analyze me dreams in the first place,)) I retorted.

((I know, but Yeerks don't sleep and so there's really nothing else to do while you are. Just think-))

((Don't worry; I do,)) I interrupted.

((Shut up,)) he said absently. ((Now, imagine if it was Jake. That could represent how terrified you are of his becoming involved and you having to partake in his infestation. Which will happen, sooner or later, by the way.))

((I know,)) I said quietly. And I did, I really did. I'd just rather not think about it and hope that it'll be put off as long as possible. I couldn't even really pretend to hope, but that didn't mean I had to face Jake's dismal future today. He was just a kid, after all. His body wouldn't be much use until he was at least fifteen or sixteen.

((Or it if was you,)) continued Temrash after giving me a moment. ((It could represent how you feel like a victim in all this. And you do, don't deny it, even if it was entirely your own damn fault.))

((One mistake shouldn't mean I deserve to be enslaved forever!)) I protested.

((Maybe not, but that's just how these things work. And if it had been Chris, then it would have shown how guilty you feel for what happened with him – and oh! It would have been great!))

((I'm sure it would have been,)) I said shortly, so not in the mood to talk about Chris. Chris is…was – who even knows anymore? – my best friend. We'd known each other forever. Six months after I'd gotten infested, Temrash managed to convince him to join The Sharing. It's still hard to see him like that; Temrash and Niss both pretending everything is normal.

((Why won't that blasted dog shut up?)) Temrash complained after he finished getting ready. ((And is that barking coming from Jake's room? Oh great, that started a dog outside barking, too. Soon the whole neighborhood will be at it…))

He headed to the kitchen to get some breakfast, but had no sooner sat down before the phone rang and Mom came into the room and answered it. "Mom? Oh, no, you didn't wake me up. What, he did? I-" The barking continued and she glanced at me. "Tom, can you keep Homer quiet?"

Temrash nodded and went back upstairs to Jake's room. He knocked once, but no one answered so he kept knocking. "Jake, you got Homer in there with you?" Still no answer, but the barking did stop. "Mom's on the phone, stop him yapping-" Temrash opened the door and walked in. He looked around, confused.

Homer was in there, true. A thirteen-year-old boy was in there, true. But unless Jake let our cousin Rachel talk him into getting a major makeover last night, this was not my brother.

"Who are you?" Temrash asked bluntly.

((Kind of rude, don't you think?)) I asked.

((Well he's a stranger in my house; I have every right to be suspicious of him,)) Temrash countered.

((My house, you mean,)) I corrected sullenly.

((Right. You live here and I live in your head, therefore I live here. It's called the distributive property,)) Temrash mock-lectured me.

((Whatever. Besides, Jake probably knows him.))

"I'm Tobias. I'm a friend of Jake's," the boy who was not my brother said.

((I told you.))

((Then why haven't we seen him around?)) Temrash asked.

((Because you never pay any attention to Jake?)) I suggested.

((Because you always yell at me when I do,)) Temrash pointed out. ((And seeing as how I'm trying to stay alive here and get promoted while serving under Visser Three I do NOT need that kind of stress!))

((Well if you could have a normal conversation with him without attempting to get him infested-))

((As a Yeerk who is part of the invasion of Earth and infestation of all humans – well, most, really – talking about infestation, even under the guise of the Sharing is normal conversation to me,)) Temrash explained.

((Freak.))

((Slave.))

"Well, where is he?" Temrash asked aloud.

"Oh…he's around," Tobias said vaguely, his eyes moving towards Homer. What, is 'my dog ate me' going to be Jake's new excuse for not having his homework? Knowing Marco, he's probably already used it.

Temrash followed Tobias's gaze. "Bad dog. You keep quiet. Bad dog," he said firmly.

((Yeah, like that'll work,)) I snorted.

((It totally just did. What now, human?))

((Well, you could either stay and make small-talk with that guy who, unless I'm mistaking him for someone else, has been stalking Jake, or you could leave,)) I replied, purposely misunderstanding.

Annoyed, Temrash turned and left.

By the time Temrash had finally gotten around to giving breakfast another go, Jake had materialized and was on the telephone, beet red and clearly trying to flirt.

Temrash stifled a laugh. "Oh, there you are."

Jake covered the mouthpiece. "Yeah, Tobias said you were looking for me before."

That's it. No apologies, no explanations, no reason why some strange guy would be all alone with Homer in Jake's bedroom wearing Jake's clothes…

"I just wanted you to shut your dog up," Temrash said, turning a chair backwards and straddling it.

((Why can't you just sit normally like a normal person?))

((Because I am a Yeerk and so therefore not at all accountable to human standards of normality.)) I swear, he couldn't have sounded any more childish if he'd have added a 'so there.'

((I heard that!))

((I kind of figured you would,)) I replied.

Jake paused, decided to spare himself the humiliation of attempting to flirt while we were in the room and merely said, "I'll just see you there in a couple of hours, okay?" and hung up. Because a 'couple hours' is so specific that that's all he needs to say.

Temrash made a few slices of toast and when he got back to the table, I noticed Jake staring at me. Odd. Did he finally find out about the whole basketball thing?

"I, uh…I didn't make the team," Jake said, staring determinedly at the tablecloth.

((Um, okay…)) Temrash said. ((That's not enough information for me to go on.))

Out loud he asked, "What team?"

((O for the love of – how can you not know this?))

((Well, for starters, I don't actually give a damn about your brother. Not to mention you never let me spend time with him without complaining incessantly that I'm trying to infest him-))

((Which you are,)) I interrupted.

((So not the point, and I don't believe he's even mentioned something about a team.))

"What team?" Jake said, incredulous that Temrash didn't know. "The basketball team. Your old team."

"Oh. Too bad," Temrash said, totally not caring.

"Too bad?" Jake echoed, confused and a little hurt.

"It's just sports," Temrash said, shrugging and grabbing another piece of toast.

((You know, you could at least try to pretend to care,)) I told him.

((Not before nine. And not after you get woken up by that stupid dog of your brother's right at the good part of your dream. I swear, that's going to bother me all day.))

"Just sports? Yeah, I guess I just don't have your total skill," Jake said.

((Hm, he's already upset about not making that stupid team, so now would be the perfect time to maximize his pain by adding what I did last week!)) Temrash said brightly.

((You have issues.)) I didn't bother asking Temrash not to tell him then because even if he listened to me, Jake would have to find out sometime and it would be better coming from someone he thought was me.

Temrash shrugged and said perfectly nonchalantly, "Well, I quit the team anyway. A couple of days ago."

((Wow, he's as melodramatic as you are,)) Temrash noted as Jake practically fell out of his chair.

"You quit! You quit the team?" Jake demanded finally. "And you didn't even talk to me about it? What's the deal?"

I hated seeing how hurt Jake looked, but naturally that only served to further amuse Temrash, who didn't actually seem to see humans as real people, just Yeerk playthings.

"I didn't say anything because I knew you and Dad would make a big deal of it," Temrash said dismissively. ((And because it didn't occur to me. But had it occurred to me, I probably wouldn't have bothered to say anything anyway.)) "Look, there are more important things than throwing balls through hoops." He tried his best to look mysterious.

((You know you're only fueling that persistent cult rumor,)) I told him. The more unconventional kids at my school had taken one look at the Sharing's coed boy scout image and declared it must be a cult because they couldn't stand all the wholesomeness it was espousing. A bit strange to be that against a coed boy scout organization, but at least it keeps them from getting infested.

((I'm sure Jake hasn't heard about that…)) "Besides," he added, to test his theory. "We do much cooler things at the Sharing. Maybe you should join up."

Like that would ever happen. Still, Jake, regardless of if he'd heard the cult theory, seemed pretty disturbed by Temrash's rejection of basketball in favor of the Sharing and spent the rest of the meal staring shell-shocked at me.

Temrash, naturally, felt the need to complain about human melodrama the entire time. All in all, it was a fun time to be had.

When Jake got back a few hours later, Temrash had already had a long, questionably productive day grilling all the teenagers he could find about the construction site last night. Apparently, the Yeerks were so concerned about covering up their presence that they felt the need to write an article claiming it was all a bunch of fireworks (which was ridiculous as anyone who would have possibly seen anything would know it looked nothing like fireworks, but perhaps that was the point as anyone who called to disagree would earn themselves a one-way ticket to the Yeerk Pool). I thought that anyone who saw that would realize that since it was such a stupid cover story the people who wrote it and allowed it to get printed as well as the cops who weren't going to contradict the story all had to be Controllers, thus giving any recently aware humans an idea of just how wide-spread this invasion is. Though, for some reason, limited to Northern California.

Twenty minutes or so after Jake and Marco disappeared into Jake's room, Temrash went in to go bother them.

((They don't know anything.))

((Then they should have nothing to worry about,)) Temrash replied promptly. ((And considering you don't think they were there last night, you seem awfully worried.))

((Because I don't trust you,)) I said simply. ((You want Jake infested and since he's too young for them to bother forcing him to be a Controller and since he doesn't like the Sharing, I wouldn't put it past you to try and use this to get him infested.))

((Of ye of little faith…)) Temrash sounded mournful. "Hey, you guys. Can I give that a try?"

((Do you even still know how to play that?)) I asked. ((You haven't so much as touched a controller in months.))

((I-)) Temrash began.

((And no Controller puns,)) I cut in.

Temrash didn't bother responding to that and just focused on playing the game. He was doing great, but then his five-minute attention span ran out and he tossed the controller back at Marco.

((People do this for fun?)) Temrash said in the same incredulous tone of voice he used whenever he encountered what he believed to be a new human absurdity.

"You guys hear about all the stuff going on with the construction site last night?" Temrash asked, subtle as a sledgehammer.

((I've been being subtle all day; I'm sick of it,)) Temrash informed me. ((And there's really only so many ways you can subtly bring this up.))

((Why do you need to come up with a new way every single time, anyway?))

((Never let it be said I lack originality,)) he sniffed.

Marco jerked in surprise and eyed me warily. Clearly he'd had to talk about this quite a bit already as well and wasn't looking forward to doing it again.

"What stuff?" Jake asked, sounding for all the world like he hadn't heard a thing, which was surprising if he'd been out with the clearly sick of the topic Marco.

"It was in the newspaper," Temrash explained, because there was nothing strange about obsessing over newspaper articles. "They said some kids were there shooting off fireworks. A bunch of morons who live around there decided it was flying saucers or something."

((A bunch of morons who are now Controllers,)) Temrash felt the need to elaborate, as if I didn't already know.

((Oh yes, because UFO sightings are so going to endanger the invasion,)) I said sarcastically.

((You never know,)) he said defensively. ((Besides, we may need to use the construction site in the future and now we can do so with relative impunity.))

((Like you'll ever need to use it. You were only there in the first place because Elfangor happened to crash there. And look at all the trouble meeting in a supposedly deserted construction site has caused with those accidental teenage witnesses-))

Temrash laughed, cutting me off. "Flying saucers, right." ((Seriously, why in the world would dishes be flying? Or aliens travelling on said flying dishes?))

((It's just an expression,)) I said tiredly.

((Yeah? Well it's a stupid one.))

"Yeah. And it was just these kids playing with fireworks."

((Maybe if you say it enough times, people will believe that.))

((Oh shut up. It's not my fault they couldn't think of a more convincing story.))

"Uh-huh," Jake said, looking decidedly bored with the topic of conversation.

"You were out at the mall last night, weren't you?" Temrash began, sounding strangely like a police officer interrogating a suspect.

"Uh-huh," Jake was still focused almost entirely on his video game.

"Did you come back through the construction site?"

((Why don't you just outright ask him if he knows anything about the Yeerk invasion,)) I snapped. ((If he does know something he's not going to admit it.))

((Maybe I will.))

Jake shook his head vaguely. "No way."

"Did you see any kids hanging around there, maybe?" Temrash pressed.

"Nope," Jake said as Marco shot me a look saying 'why do you even care?'

"It's not like I'd get them in trouble," Temrash defended his curiosity. "I mean, I think it's kind of cool. They're just shooting off fireworks and they get all these people terrified of flying saucers."

((I think it's kind of stupid. And you're acting suspicious,)) I announced.

"Uh-huh." Honestly, it was like Jake wasn't even listening.

"Flying saucers," Temrash just couldn't get over that term and laughed again. "Only complete dips believe that kind of stuff." ((Although not believing in aliens at all means you're hopelessly naïve and egotistical so as to think that you're the only planet that has intelligent life on it.)) He leaned forward. "You don't believe in that, do you? Aliens and spaceships and little green men from Mars?"

Jake looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and just said, "No way."

Knowing Jake, he probably does believe in aliens, but can't possibly admit to that the way the question had been framed.

((Okay, it's clear he doesn't know anything or at the very least won't tell you anything. Can we go now?)) I asked, wanting Temrash to focus on something other than how to get my little brother infested.

((Fine. This conversation is boring me anyway,)) Temrash agreed and stood up. "Cool. You know, Jake, I feel like we haven't been hanging around much lately."

((Really? Do you think that's because you put so much effort into avoiding him?)) I wondered.

((I hardly think that's the kind of thing he'd appreciate hearing,)) he pointed out.

"I guess not," Jake said agreeably.

"That's too bad," Temrash said, trying to sound sincere. He snapped his fingers as if infesting Jake had just occurred to him. "You know, you should join the Sharing. Marco, too."

((Marco?)) I asked.

((I wouldn't want him to feel left out,)) Temrash explained.

"Why should we join?" Marco asked, looking like he'd rather stab himself. That made sense, though. Marco didn't really hold much with wholesome family values since Visser One faked his mother's death and his father basically quit life.

Temrash just grinned, not really up for active recruitment after spending all day dealing with Innis's inability to catch the teenagers from last night. "I gotta go," he said, giving Jake a playful punch on the shoulder. ((If I don't, I'm liable to say or do something that will force them to get infested and while it would solve one of my problems, I don't want an 'I told you so' from Innis.)) "Catch you guys later. And don't forget – let me know if you hear anything about those kids at the construction site."

Not that Temrash was obsessed, or anything. And with any luck, he managed to convince them that the Sharing was a cult.

When Jake came home that evening, he was looking decidedly nervously. "Listen, Tom…" he began slowly.

"Is something wrong?" Temrash asked, attempting to sound concerned since he was trying to talk Jake into attending the Sharing again.

"I…Marco and I were talking about what you said earlier, about the Sharing, and we ran into Rachel and Cassie. Cassie said that she didn't really think that the Sharing was her kind of thing, but that I couldn't really objectively hate it unless I attended a meeting and I realized that she was right. And if you like it it can't really be all bad, right? So can we still come tonight?" Jake looked a little anxious, but still reluctant.

I nearly had a heart attack at that, but I suppose that made sense. It figured that a crush would lead Jake to the Sharing, the way it did me. Fortunately, Cassie wasn't a Controller, so maybe he wouldn't get sucked in like I did.

Temrash, on the other hand, was ecstatic. "Tonight's a great meeting to come to," he said, genuinely enthusiastic. ((We're going to talk about kids who could have been at the construction site and he'll be right there for infestation!)) "We're having a bonfire on the beach. You know, hanging out, playing games, and stuff. We play night volleyball, which is so funny because half the time guys can't even see the ball. It's great. It's the best organization. You'll love it."

((You hate it,)) I pointed out.

((I am a Yeerk. I rarely enjoy any human activity and having to pretend to care about teenage angst so we can talk people into being Controllers instead of just grabbing them and forcing them to is a lot of unnecessary effort on my part. Why do you think it took a year before I quit the basketball team? It may have annoyed me, but at least I didn't need to play guidance counselor.))

"If you say so…" Jake said uncertainly.

"Do you need a ride?" Temrash asked.

((Wait…you're OFFERING to spend more time with him?)) I couldn't believe it.

((I don't want him to change his mind at the last second,)) Temrash said grimly. ((I've been waiting too long for this day.))

Jake shook his head. "No, that's okay; it's not that far and it's nice out. We can just walk there."

Temrash shrugged. "Suit yourself. And not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on? You've never been very receptive to the Sharing. In fact, I believe your first words on the subject were something along the lines of 'it's a cult.'"

Jake looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, well…It's just weird. I mean, everyone's always so completely into it and you never hear of anyone who quits and no matter how cool something is, there's always some dropouts. And the name! Don't even get me started about the name."

"Of course there are people who've quit," Temrash lied smoothly. "You probably just haven't talked to them or else it hasn't come up. You don't really go around polling people about the Sharing, do you?" He waited until Jake shook his head. "And what's wrong with the name?"

"It just doesn't sound like it's the full name. 'The Sharing.' The Sharing of what? I mean, Marco has some ideas, but none of them really fit into the 'wholesome family values' message you guys send out..."

"Now you see why I enjoy this?" Temrash asked Jake an hour or so into the meeting. To both of our surprise, Jake had actually shown up and seemed to be enjoying himself a little.

"It's cool," Jake admitted, looking as if the words pained him. "I didn't realize it was so much fun."

Temrash, who clearly had no idea how to hook kids in, said, "Well, that's not all it is. I mean, it's more than just fun. The Sharing can do all kinds of things for you. Once you're a full member."

Jake's expression abruptly changed from 'mildly amused' to 'dear God, this is a cult.' "How do you get to be a full member?" he asked carefully.

Temrash smiled mysteriously as he showed me a picture of shoving Jake's head down in the Yeerk Pool. It wasn't a pleasant image. "Oh, that will come later. First you become an associate member. Later the leaders will decide whether to ask you to become a full member. Once you become a full member…the whole world changes."

((I'm really not sure why they make it seem like it's so difficult to become a member as we'll basically take anyone and saying that the leaders have to 'decide' on membership contradicts the Sharing's 'all-inclusive' image,)) Temrash commented.

I wasn't really listening, though. All I could see was the image Temrash projected of Jake in the Yeerk Pool getting infested. That has always been my worst case scenario. I mean, I don't want my parents to become Controllers, either, but Jake has always been my responsibility and if his life was over because of my actions…

Temrash was still going on about his deep, abiding hatred for the Sharing when I made my move. He wasn't really paying much attention to me and I'd stopped trying to overpower him months ago, so he'd didn't see it coming. I tried to shake my head in disagreement, but didn't quite make it all the way before Temrash regained control. It only lasted a second and it probably looked more like a twitch or something, but I had to hope it would be enough to discourage Jake because really, there wasn't anything else I could do and I knew Temrash would be watching me closer around Jake from now on.

Temrash quickly smiled again and made his excuses, "I have to go for awhile now. The full members have a separate meeting. You guys stay here and have fun. Have some more of that barbecue. It's great, isn't it?"

((What the hell was that?)) Temrash demanded angrily. ((I swear, I turn my back on you for two seconds and-))

((You're trying to infest my brother!))

((Of course I am,)) Temrash sounded impatient. ((The way to the parents are through the children. The fact I've been here for a year and made no progress on the infesting Jake front is downright embarrassing.))

((So you want to ruin his life because it's embarrassing?))

((EVERYONE is going to get infested, Tom. Infested or killed. Do you think it would be kinder to wait until the last possible minute, for him to realize that everyone around him was replaced years ago and he never even noticed?))

((I…I can't just do nothing while you try to make him one of you,)) I said finally. ((I know it's pointless, but I can't.))

((You don't have a choice,)) he said harshly. He then proceeded to completely ignore me in favor of making small talk with his fellow Yeerks. That worked just fine for me because I was still scared for Jake and wasn't exactly up to fighting with Temrash right now. I also couldn't believe he wasn't torturing me for what I did, but that could very well come later.

After fifteen minutes or so, people were starting to wonder where Innis was and Temrash attempted to reassure them. "He should be here soon. Wait, here he comes."

"Can we start telling him that the meeting starts half an hour before we bother showing up?" Niss asked, eyeing his watch.

"You have someplace else you'd rather be?" Temrash asked him.

Niss nodded seriously. "Yes; anywhere without sand. I swear, I don't get why humans love the beach so much. Sand gets everywhere and it's in your shoes for weeks…and bonfires! They sting your eyes and if it's cold enough to need a fire to keep you warm, you shouldn't be at the beach."

"We all know that humans are bizarre," Temrash said indulgently.

"Everyone, quiet, we have problems," Innis said strolling into the meeting. He always was big on dramatic entrances.

"We always have problems," someone muttered.

Innis shot a glare at them but continued undeterred. "Item one. We still have not found those brats who were at the construction site. I want them found." Then, because he knew that his credibility was currently shot because he let the kids get away in the first place, "Visser Three wants them found. Does anyone have any clues?"

There was silence for a moment because no one had any significant leads. If they had, we'd all know about it already.

"It could have been anyone," Temrash spoke up slowly. "But it might be the one who's my brother, Jake. I know he goes through the construction site sometimes. That's why I brought him here tonight. So we could either make him ours…or kill him."

((NO!))

((It's inevitable. And better dead than a Controller, isn't that why you always say?)) Temrash's voice was hard.

((NO!))

"Really? Jake?" Niss asked. "Did he confess to anything?"

"No," Temrash admitted. "But Marco was with him and surely he's paranoid enough to advise him not to tell anybody."

"If you don't have any real reason to believe it, then there's nothing we can do," Innis said flatly.

"But can we really take the chance that it is him? We could end this right now if I'm right; we could have those kids and not have to worry about word of the invasion getting out," Temrash said smoothly.

"What would you have us do, Temrash? Kill every kid who might have been there?" Innis demanded.

"Well no, but-"

"It's just as likely him as it is anybody else, we can't just kill him and not the others," Odret said reasonably.

"And what's more we can't go around killing people at Sharing meetings," Innis insisted.

"Not 'wholesome' enough?" Eslin snorted.

"More like 'not innocuous enough'," Innis countered. "We can't risk detection and having a whole bunch of kids turn up dead is not going to help us in our goal to remain undetected."

"Killing him would also mean we'd never know if he knew anything or not so we'd always wonder if we got the right guy or who else was involved," Illim pointed out.

"We don't have to kill him," Temrash said, sounding shocked and like he'd completely forgotten what he'd just said two minutes ago. "But if we infest him then we'll know for sure."

"It's just not going to happen," Niss told him bluntly as Innis started talking about something else. "Don't worry though; I'm sure it'll happen someday."

Two days later and the Yeerks were no closer to finding whoever had been at Elfangor's execution. I still wasn't sure that Jake was safe and so I wasn't really able to focus on anything else. Fortunately, the meeting he went to – though he had fun at the beginning – seemed to convince Jake he really didn't want to get involved, so maybe there was hope yet.

"Where have you been all afternoon and evening?" my mother asked Jake as we sat down for dinner. Temrash had to be at the Yeerk Pool in an hour, which was always fun. Saturday when I was there, everyone was just so depressed about the Andalites' failure that there was a lot less screaming and a lot more staring blankly at the walls. Losing hope – even pretend hope – all at once isn't good for people.

"Where have I been?" Jake repeated the question. "I'm…" he paused, as if trying to come up with an answer. Really, that shouldn't be a difficult question. "Hanging out. You know. Hanging with Marco," he said finally. Seriously, he had to think about that answer?

"I don't know why you bother to ask," dad said. "His answer is always the same – hanging out." Dad has a point there. Should REALLY not be a difficult question.

"So what did you do at work today, Dad?" Jake asked politely. Temrash glanced over at Jake as he spoke and I saw that my little brother looked upset. Had something happened? I wanted to ask him about it, but naturally I couldn't, Temrash was in a hurry, and he was still mad at him for 'betraying his trust' the other night. Right. He was controlling me against my will and I put up with him because I had to and now he goes and throws a word like 'trust' into it?

"Hung out," Dad said, winking and everyone laughed. It looked so normal, but if felt all wrong, the way it had for over a year now. I wondered vaguely if this would ever be normal.

Jake glanced over at me. "You doing anything tonight, Tom?" he asked innocently.

"Why?" Temrash asked.

((It's possible he wants to spend time with me,)) I told him.

((With the way I've been avoiding him and pointedly not knowing anything that's going on with him, I doubt it,)) came the rather snippy reply.

"You know, I was thinking maybe we could shoot some hoops," Jake said casually. "Maybe you could teach me some new moves and I could take another shot at making the team."

((Team?)) Temrash asked blankly.

I sighed. ((The basketball team. He told us that he didn't make it two days ago. You have to remember that.))

((Not really, no. Although it's possible it's just because I didn't care.))

"Sorry, man," Temrash said, not sounding very sorry and probably not looking it either. "I have things to do tonight." ((And even if I didn't, I quit the basketball team for a reason. I am never, ever going to touch a basketball again for the rest of your life.))

((You're in basketball for gym,)) I reminded him.

((True.)) He quickly rallied, ((I am never ever going to touch a basketball outside of gym for the rest of your life.))

((Just the rest of my life? Not the rest of yours?)) I wanted to know.

((If I infest another human, I'll make sure they're not an athlete.))

"Yeah, like what?" Jake asked, curious.

"Hanging out, no doubt," my mother said, sparing Temrash the trouble of having to come up with a lie. "Eat the broccoli, Jake, it's good for you. It's full of trace minerals and vitamins you can't get anywhere else."

"Okay," Jake said sarcastically. "You know how much I love trace minerals." He spent the next two minutes searching for the small piece of broccoli he could and gagging it down. It was kind of endearing, how innocent he seemed right then. It was hard to believe I was ever like that. "So, Tom, what was it you said you were doing?" he repeated, oddly insistent on knowing.

Temrash shot him a dirty look. He didn't like having to explain to my friends or family where he was or what he was doing as he seemed to think it was beneath him. "Do I have to check in with you now? I have things to do. Is that okay, little brother?" ((I am so dragging his ass down to the Yeerk Pool at the first available opportunity. Hell, tomorrow I can tell Innis that I heard him and Marco talking about how they don't understand why everyone thought it was fireworks.))

((You know, you are going to have to deal with people you don't like in the future and you can't just have them all infested. Particularly as most of them will be Yeerks,)) I pointed out.

((I know,)) he assured me. ((But this will rid me of a huge headache now.))

"A girl," my Dad diagnosed. "I know these things; I'm a doctor."

Jake's face screamed out 'Not a girl, Dad, a cult' and he was right. And just wouldn't let the subject drop before Temrash snapped and dragged him along so he could see what he was going to be doing tonight. "Maybe you're just afraid to shoot hoops with me. Maybe I'd kick your butt."

"Yeah, that's it," Temrash sneered, unable to completely keep the disdain he felt for Jake out of his voice. "Happy now?"

Jake met my eyes for a moment and then looked away, but was apparently accepting the fact that Temrash just wasn't going to answer him. And at least when Temrash left for the Yeerk Pool, I knew that Jake was as safe as he could be, all things considered.

For the most part, I've gotten over the 'yelling your brains out' stage at the Yeerk Pool and I haven't quite reached the 'staring blankly at the wall' stage yet, putting me at the 'conversation with fellow hosts to keep your sanity' stage. Tonight, however, with everyone still so upset about Friday, there wasn't much chance of that happening, so it was back to yelling at the Hork-Bajir guards for me. So what if it'd give me a sore throat? Temrash was the one who'd have to deal with it, not me.

So I was more or less amusing myself by annoying the guards when I heard the most incongruous of sounds: an elephant battle cry. Or, at least it sounded like a battle cry. I spun around to prove that nothing was there but since there did seem to be an elephant there, I had clearly snapped and was hallucinating. Hey, if I'm schizophrenic, that really ups my chances of getting killed, doesn't it?

((Yeah, an elephant,)) the elephant said, presumably in response to someone's disbelief. Oh, well if I wasn't the only hallucinating one, that was okay. And now there's roaring, too. A tiger leapt into my line of sight and straight onto a Hork-Bajir, clawing and biting at it.

I watched as I struggled to make sense of this. The Yeerk Pool was being invaded by the local zoo? How did these animals even get in here; the entrances aren't nearly big enough to accommodate a tiger, let alone an elephant…Andalite. It must be an Andalite; they could have morphed human to get in and then demorphed and decided to let everyone know that the Yeerks hadn't won yet. There probably wasn't much a handful of Andalites could do, but that was a hell of a lot than we had five minutes ago and I felt the faint stirrings of something I thought had died a long time ago: hope.

Apparently at some point a gorilla had joined the mix because I looked up in time to see it rip the lock off the cage. As possibly great as that was, it was still an Andalite and we were still living, breathing collateral damage. The Andalite seemed to sense our hesitation as it actually bowed to use and crooked its finger, gesturing for us to come out.

Never let it be said that I can't take a hint; I was the first one out, the others following quickly in my wake. I was terrified, naturally, and as angry as I always am at the Yeerk Pool, but now I was determined, too, because now there was something I could do.

There was a horse here now, and some sort or bird, too. Just how many Andalites had survived? Maybe that was why they didn't reveal themselves immediately: they had to all locate each other first. The Yeerks were starting to get organized, but that didn't matter, we were almost out. Part of me was worried about what would happen if I just up and left; the Yeerks knew who I was and would either kill or retake me if I didn't leave California and even if I did, my family would probably be taken so as to make sure I didn't warn them. I shook my head; I couldn't think about that just then, not with freedom so close!

Of course, that was when Visser Three showed up. How long had he been there that we hadn't noticed? How could we have missed his arrival? Even though he wasn't as physically frightening as the Taxxons, or the Hork-Bajir, or, hell, the tiger, he was still far more terrifying that all of those put together.

He listened patiently as a Taxxon slithered up to him and hissed at him.

((This Taxxon fool says you are wild animals,)) the good Visser said, addressing himself to the tiger, who he seemed to have decided was the leader. ((He wants to know if he and his brothers can eat you.)) He laughed, because who doesn't love some good old-fashioned cannibalism humor. ((But I know you are not animals. I know who and what you are. So. Not all of you Andalites died when I burned your ship. I compliment you on getting this far. But it will accomplish nothing. Because now, my brave Andalite warriors, it is time. Time to die.))

Whenever Visser Three – who is without a doubt, the most melodramatic creature I've ever encountered – starts to sound affable like that, it's a sign that it's time to get the hell out of there, preferably before he had a chance to morph.

((I acquired this body on the fourth moon of the second planet of a dying star. Like it?)) the Visser sounded for all the world like a teenager showing off a new haircut, which would have been a much more amusing mental image had I not been scared out of my mind.

We watched the Visser morph and when he was done, the Andalites turned and ran up the stairs, we humans following behind them as quickly as we could.

((Yes, run,)) Visser Three said smugly. ((It makes a more challenging target.)) Still high off his victory over Elfangor the other night, he didn't think there was any way he could lose. In a morph like that, it was easy to see why. One of his heads spun around and released an actual fireball, which hit one of the women who was riding the horse and she fell off. ((Target practice!)) he cheered.

As we kept running and dodging the fireballs that continued to get lobbed at us, the Taxxons started to swarm around us. I knew I couldn't hurt them, but I swung at them anyway because, really, what else was I supposed to do? Passively stand around waiting to get shoved back into a cage? Fortunately, the elephant and gorilla both seemed to notice my predicament and picked them off for me. As we continued up the stairs, the elephant began to demorph as it wouldn't fit, so I really hoped we didn't need that extra bit of firepower.

We were a hundred feet up the stairs when the last of the Hork-Bajir fell. It probably didn't make a difference anyway as they would stick out like a sore thumb on Earth and weren't intelligent enough to be able to cover their tracks.

The Visser advanced on us alone, then, and was so large he could barely fit. If we could just make it far enough, he'd be powerless to follow. The horse and its human passenger was almost to the top of the stairs but the rest of us were trapped between the Visser's fire ahead and the Visser himself behind us.

The Visser narrowed in on the tiger. The tiger had nowhere to go and if Visser Three hit him, he was done for. And more than just him, I realized. If they could make him demorph or if it were possible to infest a tiger, then not only would the Yeerks have two Andalites to terrorize the galaxy with but it would be another huge information coup and if he knew how to find his comrades…Even if the tiger was only killed, he appeared to be the leader and this was the Andalites' first mission on a strange world they didn't care about. If their leader was killed on their first attempt, would they really find it in themselves to try another? I didn't think so, but either way I didn't want to find out.

They came here to try and save us. I couldn't just let them die so easily, not when this was the only chance I might ever have to help them.

I was charging at the Visser almost before I knew it. I couldn't do any damage, I knew that, but I could serve as a distraction so they'd have time to escape. "No. No, you filthy creep. You aren't going to win this time."

One of Visser Three's arms knocked me off the stairs before I could reach him and as I fell, I saw the tiger lose it. He was on the Visser in seconds and was ripping and tearing at the Visser's heads. That was kind of gratifying. What was even more gratifying was right before I hit the ground and lost consciousness I saw the tiger escape.

When I woke up my head was killing me and I was no longer alone in it.

((You're an idiot,)) Temrash greeted me.

((I know.))

((You saved the leader of the Andalite Bandits.))

((I know.))

((Sometimes I really hate you.))

((I know.))

It was okay, though. The Task Force might be gone, but the Andalite Bandits remained and even if they hadn't accomplished much on their first try, they had brought hope back to us, back to me. And besides, they'd be back. And then, who knew?


End file.
